The Rocky Harry Potter Show
by her2eternity
Summary: And now for something completely different. A tender poetic interlude that has nothing to do with the story, and implies something very questionable. Enjoy, and please don't injure me. You wouldn't hurt a girl with glasses, right?
1. Bored

First of all, I'm sorry for submitting you to this.

Second of all, writing "Harm" gets pretty grim, writing "Ember and Serpent" requires craft and care, the other short stories in my head can't be written yet because J. K. Rowling isn't bringing out books fast enough and I'm a canon slut. Sometimes, a girl needs a break.

Third of all, "break" refers to my brain. Crack and splinter, the words fall out. Ouchie, ouchie, but unless I pick the words up and put them on the page, the 'i's won't stop looking at me.

That was a really stupid thing to write. Really stupid. So you see where my mind is at. I don't think it'll leave that place until I write this. (Note: If you're one of the nice people hoping I'll finish "Ember and Serpent" before I leave for Boot Camp, don't worry! I'm writing at a furious pace, and what you're reading now is reserved for the times that one more sentence about Lolly the House-Elf will make me suicidal.)

Maybe you'll enjoy this. God knows it makes _me_ laugh like an idiot.

But then again, I _am_ an idiot.

I wish I had some semblace of self control.

Well, here you go. Try not to vomit. It'll get in the way of laughing.

WARNING: Sorry, but with "The Rocky Horror Picture Show" being what it is, there's going to be some slash content, inappropriate language, spankings, sexually confused humor, rampant accusations of homosexual indulgences, homosexual indulgences strongly implied, heterosexual relations wedged in the middle, fishnet tights, musical numbers, and Draco Malfoy in minimal clothing sashaying through most of it. If you can bear all that, there will also be bad puns, re-written songs, and new Harry Potter games for you and your friends to play. If you want something more, you're a selfish little prat and I hope you're plagued with visions of Tim Curry as Pennywise the Clown for all eternity.

Disclaimer: Fanfic. Me no Rowling. Me no O'Brian. Me sad. (Me sound like Cookie Monster. Where was that desk I was crying under?)

And yes, boys and girls: this work **will** require audience par-ti-ci-pation.

Why are you still reading this? The crap is down below. Go on, get moving. GO! Don't just stand there laughing at me. Shit on a shingle, where's that wand when I need it? Bollocks, I've no idea. Just go on. Shoo!

~sigh~ Oh fine, here's a map.

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Cheers.

Damn, I forgot something. This Fic is dedicated to by dear friend, Chas "Sirius Black isn't gay!" Shay, who has _no idea_ how happy it makes me that what I just wrote rhymed. Chas is the monster who laughed when I began describing this idea to him, which is why I decided to go ahead and write it (translation: blame him!) He's also challenged me on several of my casting decisions, for which he will be punished later (the keyboard is mightier than the sword, dearie, and my sword already made a hole in your knee that time you were pretending to be Xena, remember?) So, thanks Chas. This should be fun, in a thumbs-in-the-eyeballs sort of way.

Here's the map again, in case you were looking for the story: 

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**The Rocky Harry Potter Show**  
Or, the Bleeding Stupid Thing Her2Eternity Decided to Write,  
for No Other Discernable Reason than Her Own Sick Amusement,  
which She Forces on the General Populace at Random 

**Chapter 1: Bored  
or, 'Bored' like that Hysterical Episode of the Hideously Underrated "Young Ones," which Comedy Central Took of the Air, and when I am a World Power I'll Kill Them for It.**

It was an ordinary day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, one of those days that J. K. Rowling couldn't be bothered to write about, probably somewhere between Easter Holidays and Final Exams. Everyone at Hogwarts was bored. Dangerously bored. Bored enough that getting locked in a small room with nothing to do but read but bad Harry Potter FanFiction seemed appealing.

Unfortunately, no such amusement was forthcoming; something far more sinister was planned for the innocent Hogwarties. It was something that would change lives and threaten sexual identies, something more sinister than Voldemort, something more hairy than Hagrid, something more irritating than Pigwidgeon, something . . . completely . . . different.

Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were playing a boring game of Exploding Snap and Ron was decisively winning. Harry was becoming rather grouchy over this turn of events, and he banged his next card down with a bit more force than necessary. Instead of an Exploding Snap (TM), Ron and Harry disappeared in identical puffs of white smoke.

Hermione Granger was in the library (surprise, surprise), reading "Hogwarts: A History" for the thirteenth time. As she reached the final page, she paused for a moment to reflect on the fact that many Muggles seemed to find the number thirteen dangerous. _ I wonder why?_ she . . . uh . . . wondered, _Maybe I can find something here at the library that will explain that particular Muggle superstition from a magical perspective. Wouldn't that be fascinating?_ No, dear Hermione, no. She too disappeared in a puff of white smoke.

Fleur Delacour was eating a plate of light French food at her school of Beauxbatons, which is French for "Handsome Stick," I think. It was odd that she considered her repast 'light' as it was coated with some unidentifiable French sauce, but we won't argue with her. She had just finished her last dainty bite when she disappeared in a puff of white smoke.

Sirius Black was wearing masculine boxer shorts, smoking a Marolboro Red, and drinking black coffee that was _not_ from Starbucks because he _wasn't gay_ (even though his best friend was named Remus, they were both bachelors, and not once had a girlfriend been mentioned in any of the Harry Potter books). Sirius yawned, stretched, and scratched himself inappropriately before disappearing in a puff of pink smoke. In the bedroom, his 'special friend' Lupin (snoring away on a suspiciously rumpled bed) also disappeared in a puff of pink smoke.

Severus Snape was lurking in the dungeons, not with any particular goal in mind, just generally lurking (a/n: because he was so gorgeous when he did it.) He thought that is he was _very_ lucky, he might catch someone misbehaving, so he could take away some House Points and distribute some detentions. His lurking was (a/n: unfortunatly) interruputed when he disappeared in a puff of black smoke.

Neville Longbottom was . . . oh, you get the picture by now. Poof! White smoke!

Draco Malfoy . . . Poof! White smoke!

Albus Dumbledore . . . Poof! Blue smoke with little purple stars in it!

Viktor Krum . . . Poof! Noxious green smoke with a unibrow!

Ginny Weasly . . . Poof! Boring old white smoke again, because if Draco doesn't get something fancy, then neither does she!

Poof! Harry Potter looked around cautiously. Usually when he was suddenly apparated from one place to another, one of two things was going to happen:

a) He would be required to save the world from Voldemort, or  
b) He was going to have to read horrendous stories about himself and his friends in brain-numbing adult situations fraught with horribly bad grammar.

Neither option seemed remotely appealing. Beside him, Ron opened his eyes and groaned. "What's going on? Do I even want to know?"

Harry examined their new surroundings. They were in what appeared to be a movie theater, and a rather shabby one at that. They were sitting on black velvet seats that had seen several generations of brat children and their big-bottomed parents come and go with greasy popcorn, sticky gum, and spilly sodas. The red curtains at the front of the theater were moth-eaten, and they framed a rickety wooden stage that was in dire need of paint. The movie screen itself looked fine, and Harry suddenly wondered with horror if they would:

c) be forced to watch "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's/Sorcerer's Stone" repeatedly and discuss all plot deviations in nauseating detail.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden appearance of Hermione. Poof! She looked around wildly, her hands clutching the seat in front of her. "Where are we?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"Don't know," Ron said cheerfully, "But anything's better than being stuck at Hogwarts when it's boring."

Hermione made a face. "Do you ever think? This must be powerful Dark Magic, because according to canon, you can't apparate and disapparate at Hogwarts." Her eyes took on a haunted look. "Unless, of course, this is one of those FanFiction things . . ."

Fleur Delacour appeared in the row before Ron. "What ees dis place?" she asked, looking around with alarm, "Why am I stuck again with ze 'ogwarts peoples? I was not eenformed of dis appearance."

Hermione groaned. "Anyone but her!"

Ron, however, was grinning like an idiot, with his eyes fixed on the lovely half-veela. "Heh . . . Heh . . . Hullo, Fleur."

Fleur's eyes passed right over him, fixing on Harry. "'arry Potter! 'ow lovely to meet you again. Whatever 'as 'appened, you weel save us, non?"

"Er, yes," Harry said, even though he wasn't really sure what was going on. He was saved from explaining this by the arrival of two more poofs.

Sirius looked terrified. "Not FanFiction! Please not FanFiction!"

"There's a screen," Lupin pointed out, "So maybe it _won't_ be FanFiction."

"Hi Sirius, Hi Professor Lupin," Harry said, "I was thinking this might have something to do with the Harry Potter movie."

Sirius frowned. "Well, we weren't in it, and neither was was Fleur, so why are we here?"

"'arry will save us," Fleur said happily, and Ron and Hermione scowled.

Poof! And there was Severus Snape, looking very irritated indeed. "I don't have time for this foolishness!" he snapped, "I was busy _lurking_ you know."

Everyone wondered who on earth he was talking to, but he caught sight of Sirius Black before anyone could ask. "Oh _wonderful_," he said, slumping down in his seat, "It's going to be like that, is it?"

In rapid sucession the rest of the victims appeared.

Poof! Neville Longbottom, who took one look at Snape, screamed, and disappeared from sight.

Poof! Draco Malfoy. Ron, Harry, and Hermione groaned. ("Looks like it's going to be one of _those_ stories," Harry hissed to Ron.

"Yeah," Ron replied, "Now all we need is-")

Poof! Albus Dumbledore. ("Not who I was expecting," Ron said.)

Poof! Viktor Krum. "I want out! Now!" Ron yelled.

"Sit down, you stupid git!" snapped Hermione, and she gave Viktor a little wave, which turned Ron purple with rage.

"Hello, Herm-own-ninny," Viktor said, "I am glad to haff been meeting vith you again."

Poof! Ginny Weasley. "Forget it!" Ron yelled, "Get my sister out of here!"

"I'm sorry," said a pleasant voice from the stage, "But I can't do that, Ron."

Everyone turned to face their tormenter. She had bushy hair (rather like Hermione's, only blonder) and a hooked nose like Snape. Her eyes were blue and she looked very pleased about something. "Ginny has to stay, just like the rest of you do. You see, I'm the author of this story, and you're all pretty much stuck here until I let you leave."

To everyone's surprise, Severus Snape began to laugh. He left his seat and and went to sit beside the girl on stage. "This," he said maliciously, "is going to be my favorite FanFic ever."

The girl looked at him intently. "How do you figure?"

"You brought me here to watch you make fools of these miserable idiots, didn't you?"

The girl shook her head and patted Snape's hand comfortingly. "I'm afraid not, Severus."

Snape looked apprehensive. "But I'm your favorite character."

"It can't be helped. You _belong_ in this play."

Snape took his hand away from hers and crossed his arms. "You have an action figure of me. You carry it in your purse and take it to bed with you."

("I knew it was going to be one of _those_ stories," Ron groaned.)

("Who ees ze freak Muggle?" Fleur asked.)

(Sirius was slumped low in his seat. "It's her," he whispered frantically to Lupin, "She's the author who's convinced I'm gay!")

("But you are gay," Remus whispered back, "It's obvious.")

("Shut up.")

"I'm sorry Severus," the author said, "But I can't take you out of the play. It would upset the entire dichotomy of the piece."

"Ten points from Ravenclaw," Snape said tersely.

"You can't take points from my favorite House," she said crossly, "I don't even go to Hogwarts."

"What do you mean, 'your favorite House'?" Ron demanded, "Everyone wants to be in Gryffindor!"

"Shut up!" yelled the girl and Snape.

"I'm not going to be in any play," Snape said threateningly.

"But it's a _musical_," the girl protested, "Everyone loves a musical."

"I love musicals," Dumbledore said helpfully. He was the least distressed of the group.

"I don't like you any more," Snape said to the girl, and returned to the audience. For a moment she looked irritated, but as she surveyed her victims, she seemed to cheer up.

"Moving along," she said, "My name is Patricia, and I'm going to be your director."

"Dictator," Sirius groaned.

"Torturer," Lupin said.

"Mistress," Snape added, and everyone stared. He glared at the girl on stage. "That wasn't funny."

"No, but it was very sweet," she said.

("Nuts," Harry whispered, "Completely around the bend!")

There was a moment of silence, and Patricia seemed to be waiting for something. "Well," she said at last, "Aren't you going to ask me what the play is?"

"NO!" shouted Ron, Harry, Remus and Lupin.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "If we cooperate," she said, "We can get this over with sooner. Or maybe even bargain with her."

Draco beat her to the kiss up. "What play are we doing?" he asked. His voice had a suspiciously curious note in it.

Patricia beamed. "The Rocky Horror Picture Show!" she said excitedly. No one moved. No one said a word. "Won't it be fun?"

"Kill me now," Ron groaned (George and Fred had gone through a very ugly Rocky Horror phase).

"Me first," Harry said.

"What ees dis "Rocky 'orror Peecture Show"?" asked Fleur.

Sirius chose to reply. "It was this really idiotic play that came out about 25 years ago, celebrating Hollywood B-movies."

"What ees ze B-movie?" Fleur asked.

"Crap," Lupin replied, "Usually with monsters." He seemed particularly sulky.

"The play," Sirius continued, "Did well enough to become a movie that did all right here and utterly flopped in America, until they sent it to Los Angeles, the most ridiculous place that's ever existed."

"'ollywood?"

"They loved it," Sirius sighed, "They saw it multiple times, then they began screaming things at the screen, then they began bringing props and dressing up. Now it's cult; sort of a rite of passage for American teens."

Hermione looked at Sirius with admiration. "You must have done well in Muggle Studies."

Lupin's mouth twitched. "He was crap at Muggle Studies."

"Then how did you-" Hermione began, but Snape cut her off.

"He got caught in a celluloid jam," Snape spat.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"Black was a big fan," Snape explained sweetly.

"But I don't quote at random," Sirius pointed out.

Snape flushed angrily. "That wasn't random, you idiot; it pertained flawlessly to the topic of discussion."

"I don't remember you being part of the discussion," Lupin growled.

"When it comes to Black's sexual orientation, I'm always part of the conversation," Snape said nastily.

Harry jumped to his feet. "Cut it out, Snape! My godfather is not gay!"

Draco dove into the fight. "That's because you're in the closet with him, Potter!"

"Ten points from Gryffindor!" Snape said triumphantly.

"Sit down!" Patricia roared, "Everyone sit, right now, or I'm making you wear your costumes!"

"You've cast us already?" Harry asked.

"I didn't even get to try out," Sirius whined.

"Auditions are pointless," Patricia said, "Because none of you want to do this anyway. You'd all act like idiots, hoping not to get cast at all."

("She's good," Ron muttered to Harry.)

"So I chose roles for you," Patricia continued, "I'm the one in charge here; get used to it."

"We'll see how long _that_ lasts," Snape said.

Patricia ignored him. "Here are the ground rules: Cooperate and we'll like each other more. No throwing punches, kicking, biting, or personal comments. It gets old. No taking House Points," she glared at Snape, "Because you're not at Hogwarts, and what happens here has no bearing on what happens there. You have a green room full of food; Dobby is on call around the clock. You also have bedrooms - seperate ones," she added, seeing Harry's look. "Where you choose to sleep is none of my business."

"I'm not gay!" Sirius yelled. Everyone looked at him strangely.

"No one said you were," Draco pointed out, "That was the sound of a guilty conscience-"

"Malfoy," Potter said, "I'm warning you . . ."

"No personal remarks," Patricia reminded them. "Now, I'm off to bed; the rest of you, make yourselves comfortable."

"I'll go with you if we can make a deal," Snape said silkily.

Patricia rolled her eyes. "Don't be an idiot; this is business, not pleasure." She disappeared in a puff of black smoke.

"We'd better get some sleep," Dumbledore said, "Putting on a musical is hard work." Everyone groaned.

"You're _Albus Dumbledore_," Hermione said, "Can't you get us out of this mess?"

"Of course I could," said Dumbledore, "But I think this "Rocky Horror" could be a highly amusing enterprise."

"He is mad, isn't he?" Ron said to Harry.

Harry shrugged. "At least it's not FanFiction. Help me get Neville off the floor."

*

Shall I continue with this farce? The forces of darkness say "Yesssssss . . . Yessssssss . . ." Use the handy review page to voice your opinion! (Par-ti-ci-pation!) 


	2. The Sorting Tiara

I just went and saw "Vanilla Sky." Twitch and groan, and certainly not in the good way. It was pure steaming drivel, and it's probably going to get nominated for an award. Vomit.

So here I am writing this, because it'll prevent me from having nightmares.

Side note: Just wanted to take a second to thank everyone who reads and reviews my babblings. I didn't write for a few years and I was nervous about starting up again. Reviews sort of make my day. Thank you.

Okay, we've had a moment now and gazed into one another's eyes. It was soulful and touching. Let's get on with the story, shall we?

Side side note: It's amazing how much mental time I'm putting into this piece. Thinking about it was only thing that got me through "Vanilla Sky."

*Sob* We were supposed to see "Lord of the Rings"!

Here, with no spoilers, are the two best things about "Vanilla Sky."

1. It ended  
2. Cameron Diaz

Oh right, you were looking for the story, weren't you? Need the map again? No? Okay. You're such a clever little monkey!

Sorry. You're not a monkey. I didn't mean it. 

Onward!

**The Rocky Harry Potter Show**  
Or, Why God, Why?

**Chapter 2: The Sorting Tiara  
Or, The Glittery Chapeau to be Humorously Used in Place of the Dirty Old Sorting Hat, because What Bloody Else Would You Suggest for the "Rocky Horror Picture Show"?**

The early morning peace was shattered by the Beatles "Good Morning, Good Morning" being played at an ungodly volume. Harry Potter shot from his bed and scrabbled madly for his glasses, wondering if the world was ending. Was this some sadistic new form of torture implemented by Voldemort, Ultimate Fuzzy Bunny of All that is No Good? Was this Dumbledore's idea of an amusing alarm clock? Were the Beatles back together and playing a jolly concert? No, dear Harry, it was just another day on the set of "The Rocky Harry Potter Show" and Patricia had decided that it was bloody well time for everyone to get up.

Harry stumbled from his nicely appointed bedroom and met Ron and Hermione in the hall. "Make it stop!" Ron begged, or at least that's what Harry thought he said, because the music was about to make his eardrums explode. The three of them ran to the vibrating stage and waved at Patricia that they were _awake_ already and the music needed to be turned off.

Patricia waved back happily, ignoring the pained expressions on their faces. She'd already had her pot of coffee for the morning and she was raring to go. The music didn't bother her at all; indeed it had been her favorite tune to wake up to during high school, except for that hardly remembered 'Hootie and the Blowfish' phase. On her lap she held a large velvet box, and in the center of the stage was a wooden, four-legged stool. "Good Morning, Good Morning" came to an end and . . . started right back up again.

Neville and Ginny appeared next with their hands over their ears. Neville looked suspiciously close to tears; the animal noises on the track had made him think he was being attacked in a barnyard, which is never a pleasant way to wake up. Ginny, on the other hand, just looked confused.

Dumbledore emerged next with a large smile on his face, waving cheerily at everyone. The music didn't seem to be upsetting him one bit; in fact he bopped a little bit before he took his seat.

Fleur and Viktor came in together with identical looks of horror on their faces. Ron looked horrified at seeing them together, as did Hermione. Her mouth moved angrily, but no one could hear what she said over the music. I can assure you that it wasn't very nice.

Draco was next, his blonde hair rumpled and his eyes wild. He ran to Patricia and screamed into her ear. "I'm up! Turn it off!"

"We're waiting for a few more people!" Patricia screamed back. Over his shoulder she saw Severus Snape come in, eyes bloodshot and hair mussed. He looked extremely irritated and about as far from cheerful as one could get - she thought it was darling.

Finally, Sirius and Remus came in, wearing identical blue jammies. The music snicked off abruptly just as Draco yelled, "See, they are too gay!"

His voice was deafening in the sudden silence and he immediately looked like he regretted the statement.

"Thank you," Patricia said, "For stating the completely obvious at a volume too high for human consumption."

"I'm not gay!" Sirius hollered and Remus patted his hand comfortingly.

"Of course you aren't, dear."

"And I'm the fucking tooth fairy," Patricia said brightly, smiling at her victims. Sirius took a threatening step towards her and she suddenly brandished a wand at him.

("Where did that come from?" Ron asked.

"That might not be the wisest of questions," Hermione replied.)

"Sit down," Patricia said to Sirius, "Or I'll put the Imperious Curse on you."

"You can't do that," Ginny gasped, "It's forbidden!"

"Forbidden, schmorebidden," Patricia retorted, "This is my fic and I'll do whatever I want."

"We'll see about that!" Harry said, rising to his feet. _"Accio wand!"_

Nothing happened.

_"Accio wand!"_ Harry repeated desperatly.

"By the way," Patricia said, "I put a block on everyone's powers. Just thought you'd like to know."

"I really hate her," Severus said bitterly, "Even more than I hate you, Potter."

"I'm amazed that she hasn't been crisped by the power of hatred filling this theater," Hermione said.

"When it's all said and done, we may get to kill her," Sirius said, "So let's keep that in mind while we humor her."

"Today," Patricia said, ignoring them all, "I've decided that we'll have a Sorting Ceremony for the entire school."

"What do you mean, the entire school?" Remus asked, "There isn't anyone here but us."

"They're in the lobby," Patricia said, "I'll be bringing them in one by one."

"The theater has a lobby?" Ginny asked.

"Yes it does," Patricia said, "I've just conveniently mentioned it and put all your classmates there."

"Why do we need to be Sorted?" Harry asked, "I thought you had everyone in the play cast." He was dreading the idea of Cho Chang learning that he was performing in a piece of poofy pointlessness like the Rocky Horror Picture Show.

Patricia made a pained face. "Could you please just cooperate? I haven't cast the chorus and I forgot that the photographer had lines. Besides, I always wanted to have a Sorting Ceremony of my very own. Is that so much to ask?"

_"I_ don't think so," Draco said with a winning smile, "You should be able to have whatever you want."

"Oh stop it," Hermione said in a pained voice, "She's not going to let you go. And since when are you nice to mudbloods?"

"Since she's the only one with the wand," Draco said in his snottiest voice, "And since we're in her world, not ours, I can afford to suspend my prejudice in favor of survival."

"Good point," Hermione said, and turned to face the front again.

"Now," Patricia said, "Go and join your friends in the lobby - getting through 280 students is going to take a while, not to mention the Professors."

"280 students?" Hermione said, "How do you figure that?"

"Logic," Patricia replied, pointing the wand at her head. Everyone wished it would explode, but that would have been too simple, and the world wants to know who'll be cast as Frank N Furter anyway. "First of all, Harry, Ron, Dean, Seamus, and Neville are the only male Gryffindors talked about in Harry's year. Never once are more than five students of either gender mentioned in a given year in a given House. Do you follow?"

"Yes," Hermion said irritably, "But that certainly doesn't mean-"

"Second of all," Patricia said, drowning Hermione out, "In Harry's first year, Madam Hooch has laid out twenty broomsticks for the first flying lesson. Ten brooms for each House, five for each gender. Good so far?"

"Excellent," Hermione said, glowering.

"Finally, the British are very orderly people, so logically J. K. Rowling would have organized the school in a sensible way. I assume that only a certain number of students are accepted to Hogwarts each year, that there would be an equal number of boys and girls, and that they would be Sorted neatly into Houses, with an equal number in each House. With me?"

"You're completely obsessed," Ron said.

"Utterly," Patricia said, "And now we do math. Five students of each gender to a House per year; that's ten. Seven years with ten students each, that's seventy. Seventy students in each House, that's 280. Logic."

"Impressive," Snape muttered, "For a raving lunatic."

Patricia blew him a kiss and the frown lines in his face deepened even more.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore said, "I knew this would be entertaining!"

"Thank you," Patricia said, "Now before I send you off to the lobby, I have two orders of business. First, this play is going to be called "The Rocky Harry Potter Show," not "The Rocky Horror Picture Show."

"That's the most idiotic thing I've ever heard," Sirius said loudly.

"Funny," Patricia said, "The most idiotic thing I've ever heard is that you're straight."

Snape snorted with laughter and Draco grinned evilly. "Hey!" Harry said, standing up, "I thought you said that we weren't allowed to make personal comments!"

"That was yesterday," Patricia said, "And he called me an idiot."

"No he didn't," Neville said timidly, "He said that the title of your play was idiotic, not that you, personally, were an idiot."

"Do you think the title is idiotic?" Patricia asked in a dangerous voice.

"No," Neville squeaked and hid behind the seat in front of him.

("I can see why Snape is her favorite character," Remus said drily.

"Two of a kind," Sirius said.)

"Why "The Rocky Harry Potter Show"?" Harry asked, "I mean, we're just putting on the play, aren't we? Why change the name?"

"It'll be the play with a few changes," Patricia said airily, "And you have the same initials as "Horror Picture"."

"Those aren't initials," Hermione said, "They'd have to be a proper name to be initials. "Rocky Horror" is a name; "Horror Picture" is not."

Patricia scowled. "No one else has the correct initals, do they Miss Sassy Pants?" (Draco snorted laughter at that one.)

"Rubeus Hagrid," Hermione said immediately, "Same _initials_ as "Rocky Horror". Your argument is invalid."

"Hagrid isn't in the play," Patricia said, "And if you don't shut up I'm going to find some Spello tape." Hermione dropped angrily into her seat.

"Second order of business," Patricia said, opening the black velvet box, "This is the Sorting Tiara." The Tiara was crusted with large, glittering rhinestones and looked to be about a foot tall. "You know how Sorting goes; this little item will divide Players from Audience from Choir."

"Couldn't you just do that yourself?" Ron groaned.

"I really want to use the Tiara," Patricia said, "It's great plot twist. Besides, I want to have a vote on who looks the prettiest with it on their head."

"That's it!" Snape roared, coming to his feet in a black-cloaked rush, "I refuse to participate in some asinine 'beauty contest' for your amusement! That Tiara will not come within one meter of my head and my patience with this little project of yours is through! I demand to be sent back to Hogwarts immediately!"

"You're just scared that you won't be pretty enough," Remus sniffed, "You're scared that everyone will think Sirius is prettier than you, which, I'm afraid, is true."

"Sirius has the advantage of being a poofy bitch," Draco said, than looked shocked at himself.

"Thanks Draco," said Patricia, "You took the words right out of my mouth. As a poofy bitch, Sirius should be automatically disqualified."

"I am not gay!" Sirius screamed.

"But for form's sake," Patricia said, "We'll still make him wear the Sorting Tiara, although we won't add him to the list for Pretty judgement."

"That's not fair!" Sirius said, "If everyone else is judged on how pretty the Tiara looks, then I should be too!" He looked around and realized that Patricia, Snape, and Malfoy were laughing at him.

"Gotcha!" Patricia sang, and Sirius sunk back into his chair.

"Bugger," he muttered.

"Now," Patricia said, "We're running behind schedule, so I'll speed things up a bit. I was going to have some sort of pre-Sorting Ceremony ceremony, but that'll be too time-consuming." With a flick of her wand, the theater doors opened and the Hogwarts students and teachers streamed in. Harry tried desperatly to hide from Cho; Fred, George and Lee looked for ways to cause mayhem; and Professor McGonagall leapt for Dumbledore and Snape.

"This is very disturbing!" she said, "We were disapparated from Hogwarts, stuffed into that sweltering lobby, and there are people present who simply shouldn't be! Cedric Diggory has apparently risen from the dead; Percy, Bill, and Charlie Weasley were with us; and I thought I caught sight of Professors Quirrell, Gilderoy, and Moody. And there's Lupin!" she said, pointing to where he sat with Sirius, "And Sirius Black! What on earth is going on?"

"Patricia's quite thurough, isn't she?" Dumbledore said with approval.

"This is FanFiction," Snape said, answering McGonagall's question, "You don't appear in enough of it to know the drill like we do. Whatever the girl on the stage says, goes. She's the author." 

"But if she's the author," McGonagall said, "Then why is she here? Isn't she supposed to be writing, not participating?"

"Sheer vanity," Hermione said, and a strip of Spello tape appeared over her mouth.

"Attention," Patricia said, glowering at Hermione, "Attention please." The theater fell quiet and everyone looked at Patricia. She smiled cheerfully at the vast array of victims before her. "When I call your name, please come foward and place the Sorting Tiara on your head. You'll be sorted into Audience, Choir, Player, or Tech. I'll give you the correct script, then you'll return to your seat. Understand?"

"Yes," everyone chorused dutifully. They all knew that going along with the author was always the safest thing to do.

"Great," Patricia said, and placed the Sorting Tiara on the stool. A line of rhinstones across the middle opened and began to sing.

"Mimimimimimimi! Lalalalalalala! LAAAAAAAAAAAA!" The last note rung around the theater quite prettily and Patricia grinned.

"Years of operatic training," she said in a stage whisper.

"I'm beginning now," the Tiara said in a snotty voice.

"Oh, sorry," Patricia said.

"I know I'm very lovely,  
And my rhinestones twinkle bright,  
Less valuble than diamonds,  
but heck, the price is right!

"I'm to be your Sorter,  
So place me on your head,  
Where I will sparkle prettily,  
Even if your face is red.

"No need to be embarassed,  
Do not act alarmed,  
Maybe sashay a little bit  
and we will all be charmed!

"Boys, take this, your only chance,  
to wear a Tiara on your bean,  
(Unless of course you're Sirius Black,  
Every day he is a queen!)

(From the audience, there was a stifled shriek, but the Tiara continued smoothly onwards.)

Where is it that you belong?  
Into your thoughts I'll peer,  
My every word is final,  
Accept it with good cheer.

The Audience is lovely,  
and cheers the Players on,  
battering them with toast and rice,  
All in the best of fun!

Perhaps you'll join the Chorus,  
And Time Warp through the night,  
Be sure to wear cute knickers,  
For the Audience's delight!

Maybe you'll be a Techie,  
Rigging light and sound and spells,  
Rainstorm, music, tap dance,  
And even the church bells!

But could you be a Player?  
There may only be a few,  
Remember, actors, the entire piece  
Really depends on you.

So come here and be Sorted,  
It's past time to begin,  
Don't forget to vote on the prettiest,  
Who do you think shall win?

Everyone clapped politely, and Patricia unrolled a discouragingly long scroll of names. "Abbot, Hannah!" she called, and the Sorting began.

Three hours later it was all over. The entirity of Ravenclaw had been made the Choir. ("Like that wasn't rigged," Harry said with annoyance.) George, Fred, and Lee had been made Techies. ("Typical," Ron said, "They get to do all the fun stuff!"), and the Players had remained the same, except for the addition of Professor Flitwick and a Ravenclaw no one had ever heard of called Aurora Hyperion.

"I'm in the Ember and Serpent series," she explained to everyone, "I just haven't showed up yet."

Hermione screeched something underneath the Spello tape, and Patricia marched over and tore it off.

"Ow!" Hermione screamed.

"That was tremendously satisfying," Patricia and Severus said together. Patricia blushed and Snape looked disgusted.

"What did you say, Hermione?" Patricia asked, attempting to recover some dignity.

"Pure vanity!" Hermione spat, "Putting in one of your own characters."

"Someone has to teach you idiots to sing," Patricia said, "And it just so happens that Aurora is very talented at Voice Magic - her creator of the same name says so."

"There is no voice magic!" Hermione screamed. The Spello tape reappeared instantly over Hermione's mouth.

"You're only a Fourth Year," Patricia said, "What do you know? And speaking of Fourth Year, I'd better bump you all up to Seventh Years so it's legal for everyone - including Ginny - to perform in this play."

"That has a rather ominous sound to it," Draco said, but he looked positively excited. (He was also a very handsome seventeen year old, with, hint hint, a lot more _muscle_ than one would have expected.)

"Weirder and weirder," Ron said in a slightly deeper voice.

Harry scratched the stubble on his chin. "Could be worse, I suppose."

"I have breasts!" Ginny cried from halfway across the theater.

"Maybe I should go check them out," Draco said, climbing over the seats.

Ron grabbed his arm. "Stay here or die," he said.

Patricia was back on stage. "Right then," she said, "You all remembered to vote on who looked prettiest in the Sorting Tiara, right?"

"That wasn't part of the instructions!" Terry Boot called from the back.

"Look, you strange shoe person," Patricia said, "The Sorting Tiara made it perfectly obvious!"

"No one voted!" the genderless Blaise Zabini said.

"Fine then," Patricia said huffily, "It's up to the readers, isn't it?" Everyone groaned and Patricia glared. "It's your own fault for being idiots!"

*

**Par-ti-ci-pation:** Who looked prettiest in the Sorting Tiara and why? Use your imaginations and let me know in the review section; I'll aim for at least twenty responses, but I'll take what I have when I finish chapter three! 

  



	3. Snape Bitey

Hi Everyone!

Sorry it took me so long to get back to this, but I took a small trip (to the looney bin - just kidding) to Las Vegas. VIIIIIIIVAAAAAAA LAS VEGAS! I didn't see a single damn Elvis impersonator (bummer!) but I have decided that Las Vegas is my spiritual home. It's the wildest, trashiest, most pointless place I could have ever imagined and I loved every second of it. We stayed at the Paris. Brilliant! Never-ending faux foreign twilight with cocktail waitresses forced to say, "Merci." I studied a lot of French back in that high school place, so I got a good chortle out of their horribly misplaced accents. (Bonjour. J'etudie beaucoup ans de francais. Je suis une grande fromage.)

Happily, I have also viewed "Lord of the Rings". Here, without any spoilers, are the best parts of the movie:

1) Every scene, every fucking scene, was so completely gorgeous that the three hours sped by.  
2) Legolas. Oh dear god in heaven, Legolas. If you don't know what I'm talking about, go and see it then get back to me.  
3) Being one of _those_ types of girls, the freedom to imagine Legolas, Severus, Draco, and Sirius (as written by Ailei in 'Clued' - that girl can _write_ like a damned banshee in heat) so naked and tangled up together that you can't tell where one ends and the other begins. Yum. Now get the hell out of my fantasy.

So here's the next installment of this farce. Thanks to everyone who par-ti-ci-pated - your wishes are my commands, for the most part. I'm still the one in charge here.

I also have a brilliant, brilliant line planned for Snape, but I don't think it has a place in this chapter, because it must be used at the perfect time. Just rest assured that it's brilliant. It even made Chas laugh, and he's a tough customer, what with all the bashing I do on dear old flaming Sirius. It made a girl I'd just met spit beer. It made my cousin turn red and forget to breathe, which resulted in the hiccups.

But it's in the next chapter, so get down there, my pet, and read the drivel between now and then.

Thanks!

**The Rocky Harry Potter Show**  
Or, Someone Had to Write It,  
And if it Wasn't Me,  
I'd be Working on My "Real Fiction"  
Like Harm and E&S,  
But I Gotta Do This  
So You'd Better Damn Well Deal With It.

**Chapter 3: Snape Bitey  
Or, The Chapter in Which the Sorting Tiara Pretty Princess Champion is Named (Maybe), Snape Goes Berserk, and A Brilliant Time is Had by None.**

The votes were in; Patricia ruffled them through her hands with a wistful look on her face. "Nine votes," she muttered, "Only nine votes. What the hell is wrong with people?"

"Could be that some people in the world have taste," Snape yawned.

Patricia's glare was instantaneous. "Want to watch 'Rocky' again?" (In the intervening period between the par-ti-ci-pation invitation and the writing of this chapter, the entire school had been forced to watch "The Rocky Horror Picture Show" repeatedly, an estimated 84 times, give or take a few. Snape had managed to sneak in a sleeping potion and he had slumbered like [a/n: a little raven-haired vision of utter luciousness - wish you could have been there] a baby for the majority of the time.)

Most of the people in the audience burst into tears at the mere thought of repetition, although Dumbledore, staunch supporter of fishnets and drag, looked as if he wouldn't mind another go.

"You of all people," Patricia continued, "Should have watched the film a few more times. I'm sure you missed a few important nuances."

Snape leaned forward with a twisted smile on his mouth. "So does that mean you're firing me?"

"You wish!" Patricia snapped. She returned to the votes in her hand. "Well, the votes have been tallied and the results are undoubtedly in. We shall now proceed to name the Sorting Tiara Pretty Princess Champion."

The audience groaned. But then the dingy little theater underwent an astounding transformation. The stage became wide and black lacquered, the chairs plush and big as couches, the tatty curtains shifting to shimmery blue satin, a fountain spurting water center stage, a set of sweeping stairs curving off to the right and left, and a table gleaming with smaller tiaras.

"Wicked!" Ron exclaimed.

"I wouldn't suggest encouraging her," Hermione said, who'd finally gotten the Spellotape off, "We've already decided that she's mad."

"Oooooohhhhh!" Ginny squealed, bouncing in her seat. "I hope I win! I hope I win!"

Draco watched her bounce with a glazed look on his face. "I hope you do to," he said feverently.

"Watch it Malfoy!" said Ron.

"I am, I am!" Draco said, staring at Ginny appreciativly. (If she noticed, she didn't seem to mind.)

"Wait a second," Harry said, reading what was in the parenthses, _"I_ mind! Isn't Draco supposed to be gay?"

"Jealous?" Snape asked, "You really _must_ take after your godfather, Potter. After all, Draco's lusting over you in half the Fan Fics I read and . . ." He trailed off, realizing the horror he'd just admitted to.

"You read fan fiction?" Harry asked incredulously, "On purpose?"

"It's nice to be an object of desire for so many quivering young women," Snape said loftily, "At least I'm not always after Malfoy, unlike some characters I could mention."

"You are so after Malfoy," Remus retorted, "But in your case you're always off nailing Lucius, and that's completely disgusting. At least Draco . . . uh . . . " Luckily Lupin was spared having to say something nice about Draco because the boy was going into shock.

"Snape . . . and my father . . ." Draco whispered, "I think I'll go find a corner to vomit in now."

"Yes," Sirius said, chipping in, "It's a miracle you were even born, Draco, what with Lucius wearing himself out with Snape here all the time."

"I think I'll go vomit with you," Harry said to Draco, and for once the boys were in total agreement.

"Hello!" Patricia called from the stage, "I was about to announce the Sorting Tiara Pretty Princess Champion!"

"No one cares!" Sirius snapped.

"You're only acting bitchy because no one was allowed to vote for you," Patricia sniffed, "Now, let's get on with the awarding!"

Everyone clapped dutifully and tried to look interested. _Anything_ was better than another round of 'Rocky.'

Patricia leapt to her feet, crossed her arm, and tonked her head like the girl from "I Dream of Jeanie." Instantly her jeans and tank top became a tuxedo, her hair in a sleek ponytail, and her nails painted crimson red.

"Hmmm," Draco said, "She cross-dresses pretty nicely, don't you think?"

"It's so painfully obvious that you're in denial about your sexuality," Harry said, then turned to face the stage before Draco could retort.

"Okay, ladies and gentlemen," Patricia said in a passable MC voice, "Here are our runner ups for the Sorting Tiara Pretty Princess Championship! In alphabetical order . . .

"Bones, Susan!" A girl that no one knew anything about, except she was always being mysteriously mentioned, shrieked and ran for the stage. A tiny tiara was placed on her head by the Weasley twins, who had decided to throughly enjoy this whole abduction production. Susan was led to the side of the stage, roses dropped into her arms, and a spotlight fixed on her so everyone could be envious.

"Lupin, Remus!" Remus squealed with excitement, slipped away from Sirius, and received his own small tiara and roses. He waved happily to the crowd. 

"Thank you Mummy, for always telling me I was different from the other boys!" The Weasley twins took him to the opposite side of the stage, where he radiated happiness.

"Potter, Harry!"

"Well that was unexpected," Harry muttered, his cheeks a flaming red. But he got up agreeably enough and walked to the stage, accepting his tiara and roses graciously to enthusuastic applause. The Weasleys handed him an additional trophy for "Loveliest Eyes," a title he'd won courtesy of Mako Elf.

Then all hell broke loose.

"Snape, Severus!"

Snape screamed and tried to escape, but the Weasleys were faster than he was. They tackled the poor potions master with a satisfying thump (I can assure you that he got lots of good insults in, all of them unprintable) and dragged him to the stage in a flurry of flailing legs and fists.

"It's just a little tiara!" Fred reassured him, "You're being silly!"

Snape relaxed, glaring at both of them. "Oh all right," he snarled, "Unhand me!"

Silly Weasley twins, to trust the Snape in the grass! With a growl of pure rage, Snape dove at Fred.

"Yaaaahhhhhh! He's biting my leg, he's biting my leg!"

"Shoot it!" George screamed, dancing around excitedly. "Shoot it, shoot it!"

"No!" Patricia cried, "He's a beauty pageant contestant, not a wild animal!"

"What do we do?" Fred cried, "He's gnawing through my skin!"

"Oh, if only Hagrid were here!" Ginny wailed.

"I'm here, I'm here," Hagrid said, pushing his way to the front of the theater, "What's all this about?"

"Snape's biting my leg off!" Fred howled.

"Aw, 'e's just playin' Fred. Bein' all friendly like, he is."

"The pain, the pain!"

Hagrid heaved a heavy sigh. "Well, I s'pose you'll want 'im off then?"

"Save him Hagrid!" wailed George, completely devastated that his brother was being gnawed upon by a vicious potions master.

"Well," Hagrid said thoughtfully, going into his teaching mode, "The key to tamin' any wild beast is to know how to calm 'im. Try givin' 'im a pat there, Fred."

"Are you out of your bleeding mind?" George shrieked, "You need to _do_ something!"

"Pat 'im, pat 'im!" Hagrid urged, but a ferocius growl rattled from Snape's chest and his eyes rolled madly. His teeth must have ground a bit harder into the calf he'd caught, because Fred yowled and began to run around the stage, dragging Snape after him.

"Watch out!" Patricia cried, "You'll break his teeth!"

Fred stopped completely. "I can assure you," he said furiously, "That nothing short of napalm will break these teeth." Then he began running about again.

George caught up a handy baseball bat and began to chase his brother. "Hold on, Fred! I've got a stick to whomp him with!

"Run, Fred, run!" the entire audience cried. (It brought a tear to Patricia's eye to see them all participating so nicely together.)

"Now I remember!" Hagrid said, snapping his fingers, "Snape's calmed by the same thing ole Fluffy is; just a bit of music an' he'll be put right." He turned to the audience. "Right everyone, on three."

"Wait, what are we singing?" Ron asked, "Does anyone have a lyric sheet?"

"It don't matter what you sing," Hagrid said, "Even just hummin' a little should do the trick."

"No, no, it does matter," Patricia protested, "We should all sing something together. After all, this play is all about unity!"

"She is batty, ain't she?" Hagrid said wonderingly.

"Whatever you do, do it quickly!" Fred begged, "He's chewing my skin off and getting my robe all spitty!"

*

**Par-ti-ci-pation:** What shall it be, my friends? Will you endanger your souls by allowing Snape to bite off Fred's leg? If he has one leg, will he and George still be twins? Will you allow Snape to be bashed on the head by a bat? 

Nay!

Choose a song, any song, and save the day! (Rhymes, Jeeves, Rhymes!)

a) "Snape is Pretty" to the tune of "I Feel Pretty" from West Side Story  
b) "Potions Aswirl" to the tune of "Part of that World" from The Little Mermaid  
c) "Bitey Man" to the tune of "Barbie Girl" by Aqua  
d) Something completely different (rev that imagination, and all that!)

Hurry! Fred's leg is in your hands!

Ew. 


	4. The Closet of Secrets

Hello, hello!

Not much intro-garbage for this one, although I can gurantee that the chapter to follow will be the dumbest one yet. I hate to disappoint those who share my sense of humor.

Seeing 'Lord of the Rings' again tonight. Tried to talk the friend into 'Harry Potter' again, but she refused. My wails that I'd only seen it three times did not move her. She is heartless.

[Time passes]

Well, I'm back. 'Lord' was sold out, so we saw 'The Royal Tenenbaums' instead. Brilliant! Rush right out and see that movie now, now now! Here, without any spoilers, are the best things about the movie:

1) Everything was delivered with glorious deadpan humor.  
2) Gwyneth Paltrow was not her usual irritaing self - her performance was excellent, actually.  
3) Angelica Houston. She was gorgeous and perfect as Morticia, and she turns in a steller performance as Etheline Tenenbaum.

There were lots of other fantastic roles as well, but these are the ones that come to mind immediatly.

On with the play!

Oh wait, one last thing. The Most Brilliant Snape Line of All Time is in this chapter. Hopefully it's as great as I think it is, otherwise I'll just feel stupider than usual.

**The Rocky Harry Potter Show**  
Or, The Disaster that is Created when Creativity Meets Caffeine and Anxiety

**Chapter 4: The Closet of Secrets  
Or, The Room in Which Sirius Needs to Take Up Permanent Residence, Because He Refuses to Come Out Anyway, and Sirius You Aren't Fooling Anyone, so Grow Up and Admit that You're a Tonk and Moony has You for Breakfast (Thanks Quiz!).**

"My leg!" Fred screamed, catching up the readers as to what had been happening when they last left our epic piece of cinematic grandeur, "Snape's biting my leg off!"

"Hurry everyone!" Patricia cried, "If you believe in fairies, clap your hands!"

"Wrong line," Hagrid muttered to her,"We was s'posed to sing."

"Oh right," Patricia said, "Aurora! Get up here! Singing is your bag, girlo!"

Aurora Hyperion, who first appears in Chapter Seven of the "Ember and Serpent" series, grabbed Ginny and dragged her on stage. "Ginny's got a lovely voice," Aurora said, "And I need someone to sing harmony."

"Fuck harmony!" George screeched, "Just save his leg!"

"Watch your language!" Aurora said indignantly, "It's not as though we're just sitting around and wasting time, waiting for votes to come in! We're doing you a favor, you know."

"Um, Aurora?" Ginny said timidly, "Could we please start this song while Fred is still breathing?"

"Oh fine," Aurora groused. She took her wand from her pocket (yew, 12 inches, dragon heartstring) and a gold ribbon ran from the tip, creating glowing words in the dim theater.

"I'm not singing that!" Sirius screeched.

Remus slapped him. "Hold yourself together man! It's for Fred Weasley!"

"Better 'urry," Hagrid said, "Or Snape's jaw might lock."

"That would be tragic," Ron whispered to Hermione.

"We'll save him!" Aurora said valiently, "Snape, I mean, not Fred. It just so happens that Snape's attached to Fred, so Fred gets saved in the process. I'd cry if Snape got lockjaw."

"Please Aurora!" Ginny screamed.

"Oh right," Aurora said. The room filled with music and Aurora and Ginny began to sing, harmonizing beautifully.

"Snape is pretty,  
Oh so pretty,  
He is pretty, and snitty, and bites!  
And we pity,  
Any man who isn't Snape tonight."

"Snape is naughty,  
Oh so naughty,  
And it's wicked how naughty we feel!  
We're all looking,  
To see what his robe will rip and reveal!"

"See that potion's master standing there,  
Who can that attractive man be?  
Such a pretty face,   
Such a pretty nose,  
Such a pretty bite,   
Such a pretty Snape-y!"

"Snape is biting,  
Fred is screaming,   
And it's music to pretty Snape's ears!  
So much nicer,  
Than anything sung by Britney Spears!"

(Everyone joined in, standing up in their seats and singing for all they were worth, a wall of sound soothing the ferocious Snape.)

"Have you met the hot potion's master,  
The sexiest professor at school?  
Admire his grimace and glower,  
But please do ignore the gallons of drool."

"He's really quite pretty,  
He's everyone's type,  
Sweet Potion's Master,  
Come see me tonight!"

"Call us big sillies,  
Call us insane  
But Snape's just too pretty,  
He should be blamed!"

(At this point, Snape still clung to Fred's leg, but he'd loosened his bite and he listened to the song with his head cocked to one side, rather like the RCA dog. It was adorable, if you're into that sort of thing. His eyes took on a glazed appearance, as if the music entranced him.)

"Look at that hair!  
Take in those eyes!  
Just imagine,  
His sweet and pale thighs!"

"Deranged and demented,  
But lovely to see,  
We all admit it,  
Goddamn is he pretty!"

(Snape suddenly leapt to his feet, and Fred ran for cover. Snape pulled Ginny and Aurora into the center of the stage and whirled them around. Then, to everyone's shock, horror, amusement, dismay, delight, pick your own word, Snape began to sing. And he had a lovely, ringing voice that registered somewhere between tenor and baritone, a lot like Nick Cave, come to think of it. If you don't know who Nick Cave is, go out and buy "Let Love In" immediatly. It's an excellent starting point, and that way you'll know what Snape's singing voice is like. Otherwise, you're in the dark, you silly prat.)

Snape:  
"I feel pretty,  
Oh so pretty,  
I've never felt so pretty before!  
Oh so pretty!  
Yes I am the Snape who's adored!"

Everyone else:  
La la la la . . .

Snape:  
"I'm enchanting,  
And I'm prancing,  
The audience loves looking at me!  
They're all knowing,  
I'm the prettiest professor they'll see!"

Everyone else:  
La la la la . . .

Snape:  
"See the pretty Snape standing there:"

All:  
"So pretty there!"

Snape:  
"Why yes, that attractive man's me!"

All:  
"Hot! Wild! Sass! Strut!"

Snape:  
"Such a pretty face,  
Such a pretty nose,   
Such a pretty scowl,   
Such a pretty me!"

All:  
"Such a pretty Snape-y!

He is stunning!  
And entrancing!  
See him dancing and prancing for joy!  
He is sexy,  
But he also fell for our simple ploy."

The music ended and Snape froze, glaring at them all. "Oh fuck you all," he said finally, "I was sick of biting Weasley's leg anyway."

Everyone cheered, then took their seats, rather surprised at their enthusiam. But then again, as Dumbledore had said, everyone loves a musical.

"Well," Patricia said as everyone settled down, "That was very exciting. How's the leg, Fred?"

"Spitty," he said drily, "And I'll have a bruise. But it could've been worse, I suppose."

"Excellent," Patricia said. "Now, we have one more Sorting Tiara Pretty Princess Runner Up Champion to name, then we'll crown the Pretty Princess, and we never have to think about this again." There was thundrous applause, and Patricia tried very hard not to look too affronted.

She consulted her list of winners. "Weasley, Ginny." 

Ginny shrieked with delight and everyone cheered for her, Draco especially loudly. Harry heard him and tried to drown him out, but as Draco was _very_ enthusiastic it didn't do much good.

"Will you _stop_ making it so obvious you want my sister?" Ron asked with annoyance, "It's really disturbing."

"But she's so bouncy!" Draco said with glazed eyes. Ron would have climbed over the seat and pummelled him, but Hermione held fast to his arm.

"We just saw a fight," she said, "Another one would be repetitious."

Ginny received her crown from her brothers, then went to stand beside Lupin and Harry. Snape was standing beside Susan Bones and he had accepted his tiara with less venom then one might have expected, but he'd made his point about how much he despised the whole affair. The flashy rhinestones were set off very prettily by his dark hair, in case you were wondering.

"And now," Patricia said, "The moment you've all been waiting for! The Sorting Tiara Pretty Princess Champion is . . ."

Sirirus leaned forward in his seat, anticipating his rush to the stage, his acceptance speech planned out in his head. He'd be modest and grateful, excited but serene. Sure, no one had been allowed to vote for him, but he was sure that the readers' intelligence would prevail. Who, but a queen, was fit to wear the fabulous Sorting Tiara?

"Draco Malfoy!" Patricia cried. Siruis's wail of agony at being so snubbed was drowned out by Draco's yell of delight and the Slytherin's wolf whistles, cheers, and general uproar.

"All queer," Ron whispered fiercely to Hermione, "Every last one of them! Sirius is way prettier than Draco."

"Never say that again," Hermione said, looking at him with horror.

"Oh, well, sorry. I meant, on a purely heterosexual level, that Sirius isn't a bad looking bloke, and Draco's a prancing little nitwit, and I'm sorry to see him win."

"Harrumph!" Hermione said.

The Sorting Tiara was placed on Draco's head, a long, red, ermine (well, fake ermine anyway) trimmed cloak was laid over Draco's shoulders, and a dozen long-stemmed roses were placed in his arms. "Thank you!" he cried, fluttering his free hand in front of his face to keep from crying, "Thank you all so much! First I'd like to thank my mummy and daddy for the genes that made you crown me the prettiest of all! Secondly, I'd like to thank Celine Dion for being such an inspiration! Finally, I'd like to say that I'll use my title for only the purest of purposes, like world peace and the distrubution of food to all the hungry people in the world! Bless you all!"

"That's so creepy," Harry muttered to Lupin, who had to agree. Harry was also busy noticing how pretty Ginny looked with a tiara on her head, and that lessened Draco's creepiness quite a bit.

Patricia applauded along with everyone else, looking very pleased that her two favorite characters had done so well. "Well then," she said, "It's time to get down to the real work of this play. Audience members, you have your scripts?"

"Yes!"

"Choir, you have your lyrics?"

"Yes!" cried the House of Ravenclaw.

"Go forth and memorize!" Patricia said, and everyone disappeared except for the players and the techs. "They've gone back to Hogwarts," Patricia said by way of explanation, "Where they'll work dutifully to learn their parts. We'll be doing the same."

"Wish I could go back to Hogwarts," Ron said.

"Oh quit griping," Herminone told him, "At least we won't be missing any classwork with them busy memorizing. All the professors got scripts as well. Or didn't you notice?"

"Sometimes you really bother me," Ron said petualantly.

The theater faded back to it's old, shoddy state, and Patricia was once again in her tank top and jeans. "I liked the theater the other way," Ginny said wistfully.

"Me too," Patricia confessed, "But 'Rocky' has to be performed in a place that looks slightly dubious, otherwise the trashy effect is lost."

"Is trashy really something we're aiming for?" Lupin asked seriously, "I mean, couldn't we have a high end production of the play?"

"Absolutely not," Patricia said firmly, "Techs, go on up to the sound booth and start deciding how you want to handle the effects. I'll consult with you later."

"Will we be able to use magic?" George asked.

"It'll make things so much easier," Fred added.

"Of course," Patricia said, "but I won't remove the block on your powers until we've decided exactly what effects are acceptable and I'm convinced you're loyal to the cause."

"Oh all right," Lee grumbled, and they left the theater.

Patricia shook her wand at the stage and a small room appeared. There was a closed golden door at the front, and in glittery script above it were the words, "The Closet of Secrets."

"This," Patricia said, "is how you'll discover what character you're playing. You'll go into the room, and come out dressed as your character. I want you to start getting into the role you'll be performing right away. It'll make rehersal much more fun."

"Having my fingernails ripped out with red hot pinchers would be a pleasing alternative," Ron griped.

"Oui," Fleur said, "I am very tired of being in dis story. No one fusses over me as they did at 'ogwarts."

"Fine," Patricia snapped, "You can go first."

Fleur looked around uncertainly, wondering if the Closet of Secrets really was safe. "'ow do I know I weel survive?" she asked.

"I'll go first," Draco said valiently, salivating over the elegant quarter-veela, "Then you'll think I'm a hero like Potter." He stood up. "How about a kiss for luck?"

"I 'ope you go in de closet an' never come out," Fleur said nastily.

"Ooh, playing tough to get are you?" Draco asked.

"Oh hurry up Draco," Patricia said, "We haven't got all day."

"Wait!" Draco said, "Are you sure that thing's really safe?"

"Stop being a baby!" Harry said, hoping that the Closet really was dangerous. If something terrible happened to Draco it would make his day.

"I wouldn't endanger my cast!" Patricia said.

Dumbledore stood up. "I'll go first," he said, "There's nothing to be frightened of. I assure you that the Closet of Secrets is perfectly functional. But after I emerge, you must all go into the Closet as Patricia calls you."

"Thank you, Albus," Patricia said gratefully. Dumbledore climbed onto the stage, opened the golden door, and went inside the room.

"If anything terrible happens to the Headmaster, we'll kill her with our bare hands," Hermione said in a threatening voice.

"That was sort of a sexy thing to say," Draco said, "For a Gryffindor, that is."

"One more remark from you, Malfoy, and I'll kill you with my bare hands," Ron growled.

"Ooh, that's kind of sexy too, Weasley."

Ron was about to enter a homicidal rage when the golden door banged open and Dumbledore emerged. He was dressed in a tweed suit, and to everyone's horror he was in a wheelchair.

"Kill her!" Hermione screamed, jumping to her feet.

"Great scott!" Lupin cried.

"No, that's Doctor Scott!" Dumbledore said happily, leaping up to show that his legs still worked. He flopped back into the wheelchair with a grin. "Thank you for letting me keep the beard," he said.

"You'd look silly without it," Patricia replied.

"I have to admit that I quite agree." Dumbledore wheeled experimentally around the stage, then threw himself back in his seat, making the front wheels come off the ground. "I can pop a wheelie!" he said with delight.

"He's bonkers!" Ron said despairingly.

"You're next, Fleur," Patricia said.

She looked at Dumbledore with horror but obeyed, disappearing into the closet. A second later she came out in a frumpy wedding dress. "Dis . . . dis . . . diss is intolerable!" she said, plucking at the fabric. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, Betty Monroe!"

Everyone clapped and Fleur returned to her seat, looking dismayed. 

"You're up next, Krum," Patricia said, and he clumped onto the stage and through the golden door. He was back a moment later in an atrocious tuxedo.

"Ralph Hapschatt!" Patricia announced, "You're next Neville. Keep it moving."

Nevelle gulped and scurried onto the stage. "Please," he whimpered.

"Go!" Patricia ordered, and the golden door shut behind Neville. A moment later he screamed.

"Neville!" Patricia snapped, "Neville come out this instant."

"I _can't!"_ He sounded completely mortified, but Patricia was a terrible person and she didn't care about Neville's feelings. "Come out at once!" she demanded, "You'll be very sorry if I have to come in and retrieve you!"

The door swung open slowly and everyone gasped in horror. Neville's face was buried in his hands, but it was perfectly obvious who he was playing. He wore a top hat, a sparkly bustier, and tap pants. His legs were encased in fishnets, and tap shoes with ridiculous bows adorned his feet. "Columbia!" Patricia said. Neville took one terrified look at his classmates, then ran for his room.

Draco howled with laughter. "Oooh, Longbottom's a cross dresser!" he said gleefully.

"Be nice," Patricia said, "because it's your turn next and I think you'll appreciate your classmates not laughing."

Draco gulped. "Well," he said weakly, "Anything's better than Columbia." He climbed onto the stage and entered the Closet, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

A second later, Draco screamed, but it was with excitement, not horror. He flung the door open and strutted the length of the stage, letting everyone see how sexy he looked in his gold underwear and boots . . . and nothing else.

"Oh Rocky!" Patricia cried rapturously and Draco flexed. Ginny squealed, and Ron and Harry both shot daggers at her with their eyes.

"He doesn't look half bad," Hermione said with something suspiciously like admiration in her tone.

Ron grabbed her and kissed her deeply. "I didn't want to have to do that," he said, scowling, "But I had to remind you who your man was."

Hermione looked at him with starry eyes. "Took you long enough."

Harry looked at them, then at Ginny. He reached for her tentatively, but Ginny leaned away. "Can it, Harry. I'm busy looking at Malfoy's behind in those pants."

"Oh god," Harry muttered, slumping in his seat and rubbing his scar.

"Does your scar hurt, Harry?" Hermione asked with concern.

"No, but my brain does."

"Snape, you're next," Patricia said.

With every ounce of dignity he could muster, Snape arose from his seat and approached the golden door. "Keep in mind," he said, "That I'll play along for now but I will find a way to murder you before this is all over."

"Stop being so grouchy and get in the Closet," Patricia said.

He gave her a pained expression. "Must you phrase it like that?"

"Fine, the Wardrobe, then. Just stop arguing and do as you're told."

Snape glared at her one last time, then went through the door.

The door stayed closed for a suspiciously long time. Patricia got tired of waiting for Snape to get over the shock of his role and knocked brusquely on the door. "Come on Snape. We're getting tired of waiting."

"Piss off!" he spat.

"It's not that bad!" Patricia said, "Just come out and get it over with."

"It'll take more than you to get me out of this Closet," Snape said, "I'm finished with your little play."

"You're just getting started," Patricia said in a dangerous tone, "Now stop being an idiot and get out here."

"Fuck off."

"Please," Patricia said, changing her tactics, "I knew you were the only one who could play this role; no one else has the capabilities. I know how gorgeous you must look right now, and if anyone laughs I'll put the Crutacious Curse on them. But no one will laugh, because you'll look stunning. You'll knock them off their feet. Please, Snape? I wouldn't have cast you for the role if you weren't beautiful enough to play it."

The door cracked open a bit. "Come inside and keep talking, then we'll see."

"Promise you won't try and kill me?" Patricia asked suspiciously.

"You wouldn't believe me if I said yes," Snape replied.

"Good point," Patricia said, and disappeared into the closet.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Lupin said.

"I've had a bad feeling about this from the very beginning," Sirius said gloomily.

The seconds wore on, became minutes, then an hour. Draco flexed, Dumbledore popped wheelies, Fleur bemoaned her dress, and Neville stayed hidden.

"Vell, at least ve are married," Krum said, trying to comfort Fleur, "You von't haff to deal vith de Hogvarts peoples." He shot a poinsonous glance at Hermione, who was cuddled into Ron's side. 

The Closet door remained firmly closed, and the natives were getting restless. "Snape has to have seen reason by now," Lupin said wonderingly, "What can she possibly be saying?"

"Her mouth is probably full," Sirius said scathingly.

"You're going to make me vomit," Harry said. He was only half-listening to their conversation; the majority of his attention was fixated on Ginny and Draco, who were talking in low voices. "God, can't he put on some clothes?" he snapped irritably.

Finally everyone's patience wore out. "Someone has to go and see what they're doing," Lupin said, "You go Harry."

"What, and be destroyed for life?" Harry asked, "Why me?"

"Well, you've seen Voldemort, so whatever's going on in there can't be any worse than the Dark Lord himself."

"Forget it," Harry said, "Make Ron go."

"No way!" Ron said, "You're the hero!"

"But you always bitch about me getting all the attention."

"I've got Hermione," Ron said smugly, "Make Malfoy go."

Everyone looked ay Malfoy and he shrugged. "Why not?" he said, "I'd like to see who Ginny winds up playing anyway. I hope it's Magenta. That little French Maid costume is hot." Ron growled warningly. "But then again," Draco said medatively, "If she plays Janet she seduces me." He looked at Ginny and smiled warmly. "Think you could handle that, sweets?" Ginny giggled.

"Oh, this time I'm really killing him!" Ron exploded.

Hermione held him down. "Let him look in the Closet first. It'll probably make him blind."

"Good plan," Ron said, "Get over to that closet, Malfoy."

Draco sauntered over to the golden door, looking mightly unconcerned considering the horror he was about to experience. He knocked and received no reply.

"Open it," Ron urged.

Draco cracked the door and Marilyn Manson's "Tainted Love," roared out at an unholy volume. Draco opened the door wider and stuck his head in.

"Who's your Potions Master? Who's your Potions Master?" Snape screamed over the music.

"AHHHHHHHHH!" Draco slammed the door, then twisted away with his hands over his eyes. "Oh god, oh god!" he wailed.

"Looks like I was right," Sirius said calmly. "Snape always says that before he-" Lupin elbowed him in the ribs and he shut his mouth abruptly. No one had noticed what he'd said though; they just sat there in various states of shock, dismay, and nausea.

"Oh god," Draco whimpered again.

The door swung open and Patricia stood there, dressed in only a sheet. She looked very content. "If you really want to talk to god, Draco, you'd better come inside."

Draco looked at her and shook his head. "It's . . . it's . . . oh fuck it!" He dove into the Closet and the door slammed.

"That's so wrong," Ron said.

"I'm going to be sick," Hermione moaned.

"Slut!" Ginny said, and stormed over to sit beside Harry.

"My mind is officially destroyed," Harry groaned.

Twenty minute later, Draco emerged from the closet looking flushed, dishevled, and very pleased with himself. "I've lost virginities I didn't even know I had!" he reported excitedly.

"EW!" everyone shrieked.

Patricia emerged a moment later, looking just as satiated as Draco. "Ladies and Gentlemen," she said lazily, "it is my pleasure to present . . . Frank-n-Furter."

Snape stepped from the Closet and everyone gasped. Snape wore a black corset, tiny black satin panties, and fishnet hose held up with garters. His patent leather shoes gleamed and his hair was elaboratly styled in wild curls. His lips shimmered with red gloss and he struck a sultry pose. He even seemed to be _smiling._ "Enchante," he said, in a dead-on imitation of Tim Curry. And everyone, even the straightest among them, had to admit that Snape had fucking amazing legs.

_"Now_ my mind is officially destroyed," Harry moaned. Ginny patted his hand soothingly.

Snape and Patricia sat down in the audience. "Into the Closet, Sirius," she commanded as Snape lit up two cigarettes. He passed one to Patricia and she accepted it gratefully.

"I am not going in there after what you two just did!" Sirius protested, "Make that you _three!"_

"I want a cigarette," Malfoy whined.

"Forget it," Patricia said, "Your father would kill you."

"Oh, get into the Closet, Black," Snape said in a teasing voice, "Heaven knows you belong in there."

"I'm not gay!"

"Oh fine, whatever you say. Get in there anyway and get into costume."

"Did Snape just say something agreeable?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"Maybe he just needed to get laid," Lupin said.

"I am _not_ getting in that Closet!" Sirius said.

The lobby doors flew open. "That's right, he's not!" said a voice from the back of the theater. An attractive man with curly dark blond hair and blue eyes strode in, "We had an agreement, Patricia."

"Oh hi Chas," Patricia said, "Everyone, this is my best friend, Chas 'Sirius Black isn't gay' Shay."

"Damn straight!" Chas said, "And you and I agreed that Sirius wouldn't be setting foot in that Closet." He reached the front row and plucked the cigarette from her fingers. "I thought you were quitting," he said.

"I lied," Patricia said, and Snape fired up another butt for her.

Chas stepped back and took them both in. Patricia was still a little flushed, and a very satisfied air hung around Snape as well. "What have you been doing, Trishy?"

"What I said I was going to do."

"Bad Trishy!" Chas admonished, and reached for her second cigarette. She stuck her foot against his chest and held him away from it. 

"Obviously we're at an impass," she said, "And it's time to bring the readers into play. Let them decide who plays that role."

"We had an agreement!"

"It's off," Patricia replied.

"Okay," Chas said to the readers, "Who would you cast as Eddie? Patricia thinks Sirius would make a great Eddie, namely because Snape would get to kill him with a sledgehammer. I, however, vote for Hagrid, because seeing Neville as Columbia and Hagrid as Eddie do the dance number would be a lot more humorous than seeing Siruis and Neville do the same thing. If you have a completely different suggestion, feel free to submit that too. If you spare Sirius from his terrible fate, he'll be kept on as a techie, so he'll still be around to defend himself when Patricia starts bashing on him again." He glared at his friend. "I can't believe you slept with Snape. That's disgusting."

"I can assure you," Patricia said, blowing smoke at him, "That there was no sleep involved. And Draco came in at the end."

"That sentence is so laden with innuendo that I don't even want to think about it," Chas said.

*

**Par-ti-ci-pation:** Well, dear readers, who will play Eddie? Will it be Hagrid or Sirius or some character I haven't thought of? Let your thoughts be known! 


	5. A Poetic Interlude: Animal Attraction

The Rocky Harry Potter Show  
A Poetic Interlude

"I Do Not Hate Sirius"  
A Meditation on the Nature of Animal Attraction

(A/N: Please forgive me, but I couldn't resist.)

I do not hate Sirius,  
Though that's what I say.  
He's really quite funny,  
and sometimes he's gay.

But if you want facts,  
On this jolly young guy,  
My honest opinion  
Is Sirius is bi.

Sure he like pretty boys  
But he also jumps girls,  
And when he's a dog,  
I bet he even jumps squirrels.

Gay, bi, or straight,   
These terms hardly matter.  
For a pervert like Sirius,  
All barriers shatter.

You see it is not safe,  
To merely assume,  
That Sirius avoids Lupin,  
When it's the full moon.

Sick yes I know,  
This small poem of mine,  
But out of all animals  
Why did Black choose canine?

*

And if you don't know what I mean, I don't suggest you ask.  
Love and Fishnets,  
Patricia 


End file.
